United They Stand
by Kagami Luna
Summary: But divided they fall. Seventeen years ago the Allied Powers were the strongest team S.H.E.I.L.D had ever seen. But just as long ago they were disbanded. Now they're being called back, to assist the Avengers. Only there's one problem. Alfred. "What type of hero can't save his own brother?" CHAPTER 4 IS UP!
1. Phone Calls

Chapter 1

_8:03 am Los Angles, US: Marriot Hotel_

Alfred F. Jones, famous actor, self dubbed 'hero', and millionaire. Alfred F. Jones also the lazy, irresponsible, former S.H.E.I.L.D agent. Former, mind you. The blonde man had never been a morning person. He preferred late mornings and nights, to the opposite, and required about twelve hours of sleep. Theoretically at least. It was a habit not even the rigorous S.H.E.I.L.D training could break. Now twenty years later Alfred's tendencies preserved.

Normally the blue-eyed man would wake around eleven at the earliest, and his day would begin. He'd eat, leave the hotel, do what his manager had been planned for the day and return later, to another hotel. Today at only eight he sprung into the waking world, flying out of a nightmare and into a dimly lit standard hotel suite.

"_MATTIE! NO MATTIE! LET HIM GO YOU-" Alfred thrashed against the restraints binding him to the metal chair._

"_MATVEW!"_

"_MATHIEU!"_

"_MAT-" The screams blurred together. Accents and voices became gibberish._

Alfred held his head in his hands gasping. "Mattie." He rasped.

"_MATTIE!" The scream was heartbroken and lost. 'It's all my fault, all my fault.'_

"_My fault…" A pause, voices. A phantom of a British tone filled with worry._

"My fault…" He pulled himself into the fetal position and began rocking back and forth taking deep haggard breaths. _Mattie, Mattie, Mattie._ _What type of hero can't save his own brother?_Time passed, just as it had before. He stopped rocking and fell back on the bed shaking slightly. "Why now?" The blonde muttered, turning on his side.

'_The mission, the last one, the finale, it happened seventeen years ago_.'

"The hero's final battle." He spat bitterly. "I haven't had that dream since-" '_Since before Iggy moved back to England sixteen years ago. How long has it been since I thought about him, or the others?'_ Alfred sat up rubbing a hand through his hair.

"Breakfast!" He declared with an all too cheery smile, forcing the damper thoughts away. He stood up, dressed only in his boxers, and opened the blinds. Wincing, and squinting he searched for his glasses. "Can't see, can't see." He fitted them over his eyes. "There we go! The hero can see!" He laughed, forgetting his nightmare. Grinning, he walked into the mini kitchen looking for food.

Sitting on the counter from the previous night was a McDonalds bag with a half full, flat coke. The blue-eyed man zipped over to it and ripped it open. _Burger! _There were two super sized burgers, one was half eaten, but breakfast was breakfast no matter its appearance. He was just about to stuff the first burger into his mouth when his personal phone rang.

Usually his manager would call around ten to see if he was awake. Anyone else who had the number knew better than to call earlier than noon. He briefly entertained the idea of ignoring it, but the paranoid side of him decided that it had to be serious. _After all_ _no one calls me when I'm usually asleep… They must really need the hero!_

With that in mind he snatched the phone of the counter. "Hey! This is the hero! What's sup?"

_8:05 pm Beijing, China: Private Airport_

Wang Yao considered himself to be a good businessman. He enjoyed his job; people rarely realized how he was using them too. It was rather fun, almost like a game. The traveling was interesting, as it allowed him to create 'allies'. Besides he got to try other people's food! Food had always been his hobby.

Yao rarely fell asleep on planes, or at all during these trips.

If any sleeping was done it was brief and at a hotel. The Chinese man supposed it was his childish nature showing itself. He didn't want to miss anything.

The past few days he'd been pulling all-nighters gathering information on Stark Enterprises. The multi-billion company he was traveling all the way to the states to meet with. The few breaks he took were for meetings, so naturally Yao was exhausted beyond that of the norm. Generally, he'd wait it out. He'd forcefully stay awake and wait until the reached the US to crash. It wasn't healthy, but it made the most sense to him. Maybe it was his instincts from being an agent for such a long time reappearing.

When the plane took off he tried to stay awake like usual. Seconds before the plane left the ground however, he was out. No one bothered him, though the staff was somewhat amused by their boss' behavior. If they'd known what would happen next, they would have woken him quickly.

Although he wasn't asleep long, an old nightmare came back to plague his vulnerable mind.

_The Chinese man stood frozen and restrained by fear. His dark eyes were wide, and his long hair was loose and knotted as of being torn from its usual ponytail. Dirt was smudged on his face, and his standard issue S.H.E.I.L.D uniform was tattered._

_Guards and the like were actively restraining the others around him. But he was ignored, and free to do as he wished. Matthew stood as proudly as he could next to the,__**monster**__. He held his head high, hiding the fear that was evident in his violet eyes. _

_Wang Yao was a reasonable man, but he cared about his comrades more than he cared for himself. It was something of a weakness. He wasn't about to leave Matthew to his fate though–aru. But he, Wang Yao, stood by and did nothing._

_ The opportunity to shoot was presented._

_ The opportunity to lunge at that bastard was presented._

_ Everything was offered, but Yao chose nothing he stood by and watched._

_The others screamed at the monster. They thrashed against their captors, yelling for Matthew._

_Then, just like that, the poor maple syrup lover was dead. The monsters hand came down and blood poured everywhere. Yao unfroze. He raced forward, but he didn't move. He opened his mouth to scream, but he made no sound. Then he heard no sound. _

_ The others faded from sight, the guards, his comrades, Matthew's limp body, and that__** monster**__. "Matthew, I'm so sorry –aru" He whispered. He felt his hair clean itself and pull its self back. He felt his clothes change; suddenly he was in a high quality suit with finely tailored shoes. He felt as though he was betraying them all._

'_I'm so sorry Matthew –aru.' He thought. 'Sorry.' A phone appeared in his hand._

_The ringing could be felt in his bones. _

_ Wha-?_

"I'm sorry Matthew –aru," He whispered, groggily sitting up from his brief nap and long nightmare. In his back pocket he felt his private phone ringing. Next to no one had that number, and a secretary at the back of the plane manned his work phone. Deciding to think over the return of his old nightmare later, Wang Yao picked up his phone, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Yes?"

_2:05 pm Marseille, France: on the beach_

Francis Bonnefoy, recently voted the best director in France, was on a half hour lunch break. The movie's cast and crew were out in the city, enjoying a break of their own. The weather was perfect and they were surprisingly ahead of schedule.

"Maybe I'll just give everyone the rest of the day off." He mused, laughing quietly. The blonde Frenchman continued down the beach barefoot humming and closing his eyes in contentment. He neared the water and sat, his toes just barely in the surf.

He laid back for a moment, intent on catching up on a little sleep before giving everyone the day off. He stretched and put his hands behind his head. A smile graced his lips, but it was whipped away in seconds once sleep claimed his relaxed fool mind.

_Their target held a bloody Mathieu by his hair, dangling over a drop that under normal circumstances wouldn't hurt Mathieu. But normal circumstances weren't exactly something that described their current situation._

"_A normal mission, it was supposed to be a normal mission."_

_The team was split up. They were running about the building searching for 'mon petit Mathieu.' The blonde Frenchman could feel them coming up behind him, but they were far too late._

"_MATHIEU!" He screamed. "MATHIEU!" He heard the others screaming behind him, they'd caught up. Their target released his grip on Mathieu's golden hair. And slowly Mathieu fell. _

_Mathieu opened his violet eyes, and a few stray tears spilled out. Francis dove forward, stretching out his arms out as if to catch him. Everyone knew he was too slow. Mathieu hit the ground. His eyes widened and a soft whimper escaped his lips, the most S.H.E.I.L.D's cruel training would allow. For lack of better words, Mathieu broke. His body shattered._

_Francis let out the most pained cry he'd ever had the displeasure of uttering. The little boy, the little boy who's been a practical little brother to him. The one he'd all but raised. _

_Mathieu. _

_Tears spilled out of his eyes, rushing down his cheeks in an uncontrolled torrent of salt water._

_Alfred rushed past him, clutching his twin's body and shooting a tearful glare at Francis. Mathieu…_

"_Je suis désolé Mathieu, c'est de ma faute." _

"Je suis désolé Mathieu, c'est de ma faute." Francis woke gasping, reaching out for son petit Mathieu. The nightmare was familiar, but old. He hadn't had it in years. What had brought it on? _Perhaps an omen? No, probably not, it's just close to the anniversary is all. _He sat up, backing away from the water and clutching his head. He took a deep breath and frowned. _Though maybe not…_

Before he could give it anymore thought his phone conveniently chose to ring. "Of course." He chuckled allowing a small smile to flicker to life on his face. He leaned back and reached for his shoes, where he'd left his phone.

"Bonjour? C'est Francis à qui je parle?" He smile faded all to quickly.

_10:03 am New York City: Abandoned Warehouse_

"Boss! Boss!" A voice called him out of his nap.

"Vat?" He cracked open one eye, and casually rested a hand on his beloved lead pipe. The lackey nervously eyed the pipe, and stuttered.

"T-t-there's someone here to- t-to"

"Speet eet out" He grumbled, the fool must be new.

"T-there's a M-mr. Coulson who wantstotalktoyou." The young lackey looked down and tensed, waiting for the blow. Surprisingly it never came. But he cringed when he heard his boss laugh.

"Pheel Coulson?" The lackey nodded feverishly, what now? "Eenteresteing, da?" He smiled stroking his pipe. The lackey went pale and nodded more. "Go get heem." The lackey scurried off in terror leaving Ivan to brood over the nightmare that had plagued his nap.

It was an old one, one he hadn't had since his little sunflower had died. "Vhy vould eet return after so long?" He frowned, trying to come up with an acceptable response.

_His sunflower was limp. That little bastard was holding him up. The bastard had a gun; it wasn't loaded and looked like a toy, yet Ivan felt it fill him with fear. 'Where had he gotten that, thing?'_

_ Around the barrel a leather collar was tied securely. _

_ "S.H.E.I.L.D couldn't make you forget could it?" The bastard asked cockily. Ivan yelled something in a Russian at the thing, but it had no response. It just grinned._

_ "I wonder… what would you do if your little sunflower felt its wrath?" Ivan blanched. _

_ "Vhat's vrong vith you?" He growled out. It laughed._

_ "Absolutely nothing,"_

"That's a lie." His English was quite and perfect, just like Mattie had him prefect.

_ "The one who has the problem is you, Mr. Braginski." Ivan shot. His aim was perfect, right at that bastards head._

"How was he so fast?"

_The bastard wasn't smiling anymore. The Russian man lowered his gun. "Matvew…" Ivan uttered. "Matvew." _

Ivan had never understood, he only knew that those nightmares had always left him feeling hollow. Now was no exception.

_That bastard discarded Matvew. His sunflower fell to the ground dead by his hand. His glasses were shattered and his violet eyes wide in pain._

"Matvew…" The dreams had stopped years ago. So what had brought it back? He glanced at the calendar in the corner. _April 11…_ _Eet's been seventeen years._He sighed and looked up. Phil Coulson entered a moment later, dressed in his as per usual suit and tie.

"It's been a long time Mr. Braginski." He smiled.

"Too long, da?" He smiled falsely. _Matvew always hated when I smiled like this._

Coulson nodded. "So I assume you know why I'm here." It wasn't a question.

"Of course, da." The false smile vanished.

_10:05 am Lichfield, UK: Small Local teashop._

Arthur Kirkland sipped his tea and glanced out the window. Rain pattered against the old panes, and editing his latest project wasn't going to happen with this kind of weather. It was just too dreary. He put down his tea and sighed running a hand through his messy blonde hair. The Brit tried not to let his thoughts stray to his nightmare, and to Matthew.

It was a futile effort.

_Matthew lay bleeding on the ground. The others had pried the bloody wanker off his body, and Arthur had moved over to examine the wounds. Trying not to make the bleeding worse, the thick browed man clumsily unbuttoned Matthew's shirt and pulled his first aid kit next to them. The team set to work immediately._

_Mechanically they stitched him up, something that they'd done for each other time and time again. But it was clear they were losing him. Alfred proposed something, a reckless idea, but their last hope. The others had been skeptical, but they'd been willing to try. After all what else is there? _

Arthur leaned over the table, trying not to succumb to tears.

_He hadn't let them. He'd yelled at the American boy, telling him how even if Matthew survived, he wouldn't ever be quite the same. He proposed a safer idea, one that under normal circumstances would save him._

"But those were anything, but normal circumstances." A few tears rolled down his cheeks._ But as the bloody frog said, these were anything but normal circumstances._

_Arthur and the other allies did everything they could, but in the end, they lost. Their first lose in a long, long time. Alfred, that stupid boy, blamed him. He was furious. He screamed at him as tears ran down his face. "YOUR FAULT! THAT'S WHAT I SAID! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Arthur felt the sobs come._

"_My fault…."_

"My fault…"

His phone rung, yanking him out of the black cloud in a way almost painful. He watched it for a moment; it wasn't a number he recognized. Finally he picked up, if only for the distraction.

"Hello, this is Arthur Kirkland, to whom am I speaking?" He stood and walked outside to stand under the awning.

"This is Maria Hill, and on behalf of S.H.E.I.L.D I would like to _request_ that you get on the next flight to New York." _Hill?_

Arthur froze. _God bloody damn it!_ Forcing himself to remain polite, he strained. "Excuse me?"

"S.H.E.I.L.D is calling back the team."

* * *

Ok so I probably shouldn't be posting another story, but I've planned this one out. Besides my friend Keeb is helping me, so it should take less time. Chapters for this story will be longer then I usually do, which isn't saying much but... THis story will not have lemon, I have nothing against it, but it's not something I can write comfortably. The pairings won't be too important till much later on and even then the only really apparent ones in most chapters will be USUK. Ruscan and others will only be hinted at. If anyone thinks the rating should change in later chapters PM me about it...

Pairings: USUK, Ruscan, possibly others.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas:3

Review please!


	2. You Forced My Hand

Sorry this took so long, I meant to have it up last week, but that obviously didn't happen. No excuses, sorry again. I hope this is up to par with the last chapter and thank you for all the reviews! 13 reviews on one chapter, and all of them nice! I feel so accomplished. Thank you! Everyone who favorited and/or followed thank you! Even if you just read it! Thank you all so much!

Thank you to: Myra Brown, The Almighty Pyro, Reader, Renegade, Whispered Melodies, herogirl02, AnimeGirl 144, Guest, Hornet394, ThePersonFromYourNightmares, Cool HetalaiGirl, Luna in Bloodland, and Vass! Thank you all for reviewing! And without further adieu here's the chapter!

* * *

_10:07 am Lichfield, UK: outside a local teashop_

"Excuse me?" The polite tone was overly strained, and not very fooling. The Brit was furious.

"S.H.E.I.L.D is calling back the team." Maria Hill sounded professional, and well practiced as she repeated herself.

"What makes you think it's okay to contact us now?" Arthur spat out, scanning the area around him for agents. "We're done, it's been seventeen years. No one's going to return." He turned around and walked back towards the teashop. He couldn't help it; he knew what he was going to do. "Besides" He continued. "What could you possibly need us for?"

"Loki has the tesseract." The former agent's hand froze on the door handle. His eyes went wide as he processed the information she'd just dumped. _What? _

Throwing caution to the wind, Arthur found himself tossing back in an almost playful manner. "And what of your avengers initiative? Are they not good enough?" He heard movement across the line; the earpiece was passed to someone else. Arthur ignored it and resumed motion. He walked to his small table, glancing out the foggy windows and scooping up his laptop and book bag. The laptop was slide into the bag, and his worn coat taken off the back of his chair and wrapped firmly around him.

"How do you know about that Kirkland?" Fury's voice resonated through the blonde's cheap cell phone. He didn't respond. The silence fostered unspoken threats. Eventually making the director sigh. "We'll discuss it later. Kirkland, get on the next plane to New York."

"Why should I? My obligations with S.H.E.I.L.D ended a long time ago." Arthur ran a hand through his light hair, stepping back out under the awning. He looked down the almost deserted road.

"What about your obligations to Jones and the others?" _That was a long blow you bloody wanker._

"Brilliant." He said stepping out of the safety of the awning and into the rain. "When does the next plane leave?" Then almost as an after thought. "I expect to be sent the files."

"One hour."

"Then have a nice day director." The green-eyed Brit hung up, suddenly feeling very old. _Too old for this anyway. _"This is all bloody brilliant." He sighed and took up a jog towards the small airport. It wasn't far, only a five-minute jog. And security would be no problem. _I knew holding onto my S.H.E.I.L.D ID would be helpful. _But something was bothering Arthur, and he knew what it was no matter how much he wanted to deny it. _Alfred._

The blonde frowned, picking up the pace and shoving his thoughts down. He arrived at the airport faster than he'd anticipated, giving him more than enough time to get through security and open his laptop in the waiting area. Turning on the laptop and logging in, he was somewhat relived to see the files on his desktop. He overlooked the fact that S.H.E.I.L.D would have had to hack into it for it to appear like that. It didn't matter anyway; the blonde needed the information.

"Let's see." He muttered opening the files and leaning back a little. Selecting the first document, he crossed his arms and settled in to do a little before-flight light reading.

_8:07 pm air space above China: Wang Company Private Jet_

"Yes?" Yao's tone was light, and he tried, he really did to make it sound unsuspecting. But the instincts that S.H.E.I.L.D had ingrained in him died hard. He looked out the plane window looking at the sky.

"This is Agent Adams of S.H.E.I.L.D. The director is requesting that you take a short trip to the states." Yao froze, his eyes widened and the glanced at the staff. Eight people total, flight attendants and his secretary. They were all innocent civilians, and all genuinely nice people. Frantically he shooed them out, not caring how scared he looked. _Damn it, what did they find out? _He moved back from the window, eyes darting around the cabin, scanning the airport through the windows of his jet.

"What can I do for you Agent Adams?" He made his tone light and almost mundane, masking his fear with decades of practice. _I wish I had Shinnaty-chan…_

"S.H.E.I.L.D. requires the team to return." _What?_ Yao found himself calming down. S.H.E.I.L.D wouldn't call back the whole team for something he'd done. Then guilt flooded his chest. He knew he shouldn't feel relief at that, it was anything but right. He felt stress build in his already tense muscles.

"I'm already heading towards New York, I have a conference to attend to on the thirteenth. Can it wait till afterwards?" He leaned back in his seat, still tense, but portraying at ease to the untrained eye.

The agent sounded like he'd practiced his response. He probably had, or he had script in front of him. _I never like Teleprompters –aru. _"No. Stark will not be available anyway, neither will Ms. Potts."

"Oh?" It didn't surprise him, not with the iron man suit being public knowledge. Stark had no doubt been pulled into S.H.E.I.L.D. _But why Potts?_

"I'm sure your conference can be rescheduled Mr. Wang." Yao frowned, feeling childish. _I don't like this. _He pouted for a minute, and the agent said nothing. _He must have been briefed on me –aru. _Finally Yao sighed. It never had been much of a decision anyway. They knew what he'd do. They always did.

"Why are we being reassembled –aru?" He asked, defeat plain in his voice.

"The tesseract has been stolen." Yao laughed then. Pure laughter, something he hadn't been able to do in a long time. He could almost hear the agent stiffen on the other end of the line. The Chinese man relaxed, and his laughter tampered off. A ghost of a smile remained as he spoke.

"I'll be in new york in a day –aru."

"Goodbye Mr. Wang." The agent hung up, and Yao felt the stress barrel into him. The lack of sleep and the guilt of the past made him feel sick. He curled in on himself, gagging and gasping for breath. His eyes were wide with a sudden fear. It would be the first time he'd see the others in a very long time. Since the mission really. They hadn't said anything after wards, just a glance and… Yao shook his head. _Not now. _He couldn't afford to think about it right know.

He took deep breaths, slowly calming himself down. Slowly he sat back up releasing the clutch on his chest he hadn't noticed to begin with. He collapsed back into the seat abruptly though, letting out a childish whine. He crossed his arms and let himself pout again, but only for a moment.

In the next moment he remembered his staff and stood up. "Should probably go get them –aru." He muttered, refusing to drop his nervous verbal tick.

_3:00 pm Marseille, France: local airport_

Francis sighed leaning against the bulletproof plane window and closing his eyes. He had wanted to decline S.H.E.I.L.D's offer of riding in one of their private jets to New York, but they had insisted. The Frenchmen opened his eyes and sighed again, he'd wanted to use public airways simply for the time it would take. The longhaired blonde was restless and nervous. A part of him wanted nothing more than to be back on set, being overly dramatic when things when wrong. That part of him didn't want to see his friends. _Not now, anyway. _He thought.

_I wonder what mes amis have been doing lately? _A trivial question, the blond already knew, but he needed to distract himself. _Alfred became some Hollywood actor. _That Francis knew well, there had been multiple occasions where producers had asked Francis to direct Alfred's next film. Both of them had resisted the producers each time.

_ Angleterre works for a publishing company back in the UK._ He mentally went down his checklist. Unlike the others, seventeen years ago he'd been venomously apposed to splitting up.

_Yao is the CEO of a major trading company. And last, but not least, Ivan. The head of a growing mafia gang in underground New York. _He'd been hard to find. The Frenchman found himself reflecting. _He'd was almost as devastated as Alfred when mon petit Mathieu-_

His train of thought came to a violent stop. His violet eyes were wide and he held up a hand to feel his cheek. _Tears? After so long?_ Francis chuckled darkly, wiping his eyes. He felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket; it had been on vibrate since he'd boarded the plane. He pulled out his phone and threw up a cheery mask. Something he had all too much practice doing.

He held the phone up to his ear, already sinking into the well-molded persona. "Bonjour Monsieur CotÉ."

"Francis! I've called you at least fifty times! Where are you? Break ended an hour ago!" He let his manager huff and puff, waiting for a chance to put in his opinion. "If you're going to be so late, why not have the cast take a vacation! With the time you've been gone they might as well!"

"Ah, brilliant idea Monsieur." He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. "The entire crew as well, not just the cast I think. Tell everyone that they have a week off for me Cote." He laughed lightly when his manager yelled in his ear.

"I was joking, idiot! Get back to the set now! We don't have forever to finish this movie!" He could see his managers face going red in anger, something it'd done many times before. The normalcy of the occurrence somehow comforted him.

"Au revoir Monsieur Cote." His manager sputtered indignantly as the Frenchman hung up. _Now that that's over…_

Francis slumped back in his seat, a haunted look marring his features. He shook his head before turning back to the window and staring out at the clouds. The S.H.E.I.L.D agent in the cabin said nothing throughout it, simply staring at the wall across from him.

Francis didn't notice, but the tears never had stopped falling.

_10:03 am New York City: Abandoned Warehouse_

"Of course, da." The false smile vanished. Coulson nodded grimly.

"I am required to brief you on it all the same," The Russian man stared out the window with a bored look. He hadn't listened to briefing seventeen years ago. _I see no reason to start now._ "But first, as a senior agent of S.H.E.I.L.D, I have to ask. What happened to Agent Matthew Williams?" Ivan blanched. His purple eyes widened and the blood drained from his face. He wanted to cry. _Matvey…_

But of course he didn't.

He didn't do stuff like that.

Ivan found himself blurting out, with more emotion than he had in years. "Nothing." His tone was hurt and for a moment the huge man looked childish, vulnerable. _'Silly Ivan.'_ A voice rang through his head. _'Don't worry about stuff like that.' _Ivan straightened, looking the agent straight in the eye, refusing to let emotion rule him.

"Vhy are ve returneeng?" Ivan asked in a well-practiced way. He leaned on his elbow, his eyes glazed over, his tone sounded bored. Combined with his intimidating presence, it usually got him the answers he wanted.

Coulson looked like he was going to press the topic of Matthew, but he paused. In all his years with S.H.E.I.L.D he'd never seen such a strong man become so vulnerable with only the mention of someone from the past. And he'd never seen Ivan Braginski look so immensely sad. He decided that perhaps leaving the topic alone would be best. The agent instead reached into his jacket and pulled out a folder.

"This has everything you need to know." He smiled faintly and nodded to the former agent, trying to show some form of sympathy. Ivan took the folder and flicked through it quickly, Coulson's attempts completely ignored.

"Vhen?" He asked, stopping on a seemingly random page.

"Tomorrow, when the others arrive. We'll contact you." The Russian man nodded refusing to look up. After several minutes in which Agent Phil Coulson stood waiting for Ivan to look up, Ivan's eyes flickered up for half a second.

"Go." He wavered Coulson out boredly, not bothering to spare him another glance.

"I'm supposed to answer any questions you have." He insisted.

"Go." The Russian man looked up, his eyes boring through the agent's soul.

Coulson deciding it was for the best nodded. "Goodbye Mr. Braginski." He got no response. Once he'd gone and his footsteps had vanished down the halls. Ivan found himself crying silently. Mentally he berated himself. _Crying is not okay._

_'You know it's okay to cry –eh.' The voice paused. 'I won't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about –eh.' _The voice only brought more tears from the huge man and a silent sob. It really was too much.

_The Helicarrier: off the West Coast._

"What's sup?" The cheery voice of the famous American actor rang through Fury's earpiece.

"A few things, actually Agent Jones." It was almost possible to hear the normally cheery man deflate. Fury paid it no mind.

"Oh, it's you." He sounded as if the world was crashing down onto him. Fury frowned slightly.

"Yes it's me Jones." The one eyed man replied. "I've got something I'd like to ask you about."

"No." Fury raised his eyebrow. Out of all of the Allied powers, he'd thought Alfred would be the easiest to call back. "Whatever it is no."

Fury continued undeterred. "We need you to come back with the team Jones. We need the Allied Powers."

"No, no thanks man." The famous actor sounded nervous.

Fury ignored him. "Jones, the world needs the Allied powers to return." He was blunt. The normally excitable American was silent for a long while. Fury was almost thought he'd hung up for a second.

"Sorry director, no can do." His voice was barely audible.

"Jones stop being selfish, the world needs heroes, it needs y-" He was cut off by the broken voice of a former agent.

"Don't feed me that crap Fury." Fury arched his eyebrow. "What type of hero can't save his own brother?" Fury's eye widened in shock. _What?_ He heard something break on the other end of the line before it went dead.

"Jones?" He asked behind masked anger. His voice was met with silence. "Jones?" He sighed. "Hill." He called.

"Yes sir?" The one eyed man took a moment to respond. He didn't want it to have to come to this.

"Send a battalion to get Jones." _You forced my hand Jones._

"Yes sir."

* * *

Review please, tell me what you think!

Ja Ne:3


	3. Desperate to Escape

Sorry this took so long, school's just finishing up and it decided to dum a huge workload on me:( Oh well, here's the chapter.

Thank you for the reviews from: MyraBrown, AnimeGirl 144, Artiebrows, Falling without You, Guest 1, jayfeather63, guest 2, Officially a Psychopath, Guest 3, Aripadenoapte, and Guest 4!

11 reviews, hurray:D I hope you guys like this chapter more than I do...

* * *

_8:10 am Los Angles, US: Marriot Hotel_

Alfred was frozen when his new iPhone slipped from his hand and landed the floor with a worrying crack. He was frozen when the tears welled in his eyes, and he was frozen when a few stray tears glided down his cheeks. In all he was frozen for thirty long seconds.

The thirty seconds were divided into three sections of thought. The first ten were dedicated to processing what he'd just said. The second ten was for self-pity and the last ten seconds were for asking questions. Somewhat cheesy questions of course. Such as '_What now'_ or '_Where do I go next?'_ not that they mean anything different.

Alfred, wincing and slumping against the fridge, left the partially unwrapped cold burger and a half and the flat coke on the counter. He knew S.H.E.I.L.D wouldn't take 'no' for an answer._ Crap_. He pushed his glasses up and ran a hand through his un-brushed filthy blonde hair.

He removed the glasses, and let them fall the remaining three feet to the floor. Alfred allowed himself to curl up on the cold floor for all of ten seconds. Another five seconds for self-pity and five to tell himself to shut up and get moving. Once his allotted time was up, he shot groaning slightly. He picked up his now cracked glasses and slipped them back on. Snatching his now cracked iPhone off the tiles he ran to his room. The cold, partially unwrapped burger and flat coke were forgotten. He was no longer hungry.

Throwing open his suitcase and grabbing a t-shirt and jeans, he felt the familiar adrenaline course through his veins. He was about to sprint out of the room when he remembered his old jacket. He grabbed it, if only for nostalgic reasons. He threw it on and ran his fingers through his hair. It would have to do.

Mentally he went over his plan he'd decided on it years ago, thinking he'd never need it. At least not for this reason. Deciding to forego his preplanned second step he neglected to call his manager, hoping whatever he had to do today wasn't too important.

He ran back into the kitchen, almost panicking. Knowing S.H.E.I.L.D he'd already taken too long. Shoving the half eaten burger in his mouth he ran to the window. _It'll be safer_. He decided. _Safer..._ It didn't open.

_No, of course not. I'm twenty-three floors up._ He found himself abandoning all logic and reason. The window found it's self, as a result of Alfred's need to escape, in several large broken pieces on the hotel room's floor and hurdling towards the street.

Alfred hopped onto the windowsill, crouching on the broken glass. _Ouch._ He winced, realizing too late he'd forgotten shoes. Deciding they weren't worth it at this point he leaned over the ledge, tensed, and jumped.

He heard people scream below him, but he ignored them. He'd always been good at it, and besides he always did his own stunts. There was a fire escape a few floors down just to he right of him. He kicked the wall and rolled onto the fire escape. He realized just how out of practice he was when his head whipped back and hit the metal bars of the fire escape. Between his now pounding head and bleeding feet, Alfred wasn't sure how well he would do when the agents actually did show up. He didn't dwell on it, as he was still pumped full of adrenaline and could only see the need to escape. He felt caged, and he hated nothing more.

Allowing himself to ignore his thoughts and for the adrenaline to rule his actions, he pulled himself up and flew down the fire escape. People were screaming in the streets, and photographers were getting pictures of the broken window and the injured Alfred. The paparazzi was already there.

_Shit._ Alfred thought, realizing his manager would now find out before he could explain himself. _Why can I never do things quietly?_ For once he felt annoyed by it. '_Cause that's how heroes do things' the voice asked innocently. 'Right Alfred?' _Alfred ignored it and ran. The blonde shrugged his way through the crowd, putting as much distance as he could between the reporters, screaming people and himself.

He managed to put several good blocks between them and cloak himself in the crowded streets of L.A. He'd always been surprisingly good at hiding in times like this. It was part of why he'd become a professional actor. He'd been one already. He hadn't made it much further before he spotted the first one. _The response time has gone up._ Alfred noted and ducked into the nearest shop. He came out with a beanie and some sun glasses in his jacket pocket. There was a new pair of flip-flops adorning his feet as well. He would have added socks to hide his feet too, but there wasn't enough time.

It always made him fell guilty when he had to do this, but it had been necessary. As he walked, he slowly assembled his disguise. He changed his gait, his expression. He slipped the sunglasses on and hid his hair under the hat. Ever so often he would crack his knuckles. He appeared to relax, and he way he walked made him seem smaller, shyer. He slouched some, decreasing his height. At first glance he was a completely different person.

Alfred managed to loose the first one, and his friends who showed up soon after. He weaved through the crowds, ignoring everyone. He was tempted to stop when he passed a Starbucks, but reminded himself all too quickly that he wasn't simply avoiding the paparazzi this time. None of his usual habits could remain.

He instead stopped in at a teashop further down the street. He was surprised to find it, but decided to use it anyway. He hated tea, more than anything. Tea was too nostalgic, tea was…

Tea was more of Arthur's thing.

He hadn't gotten far from the teashop when he came face to face with three agents. Alfred spun on his heel quickly, too quickly. Reacting before he could even think. His disguise shattered in that moment, and they noticed. The agents sprung after him and his head pounded with intensified pain. He shouldn't have spun that fast.

Alfred panicked; he evaded them and sprinted away, only to see five more. More and more appeared around him, surrounding him completely. They wore normal clothes, and barely appeared to be any different. But he could tell. He could always tell. From the small S.H.E.I.L.D logo on their shirts to the style of sunglasses, they made it obvious to anyone looking that they were S.H.E.I.L.D. That was the problem though, no one was looking. They were never looking.

No one noticed his panic, or the agents. They streamed past immersed in their digital and busy lives. Alfred raised his fists and stepped back into a convenient ally way then. At the very least there was no was he was going in without a fight. Though he mused. It won't be much of a fight, not if the hero can't see straight.

He ignored the pain that came with referring to himself as that again.

_9:10: Helicarrier, landing platform off the coast of Long Island._

The Chinese man yawned and stretched. He was exhausted; sleep hadn't been all that likely with the idea of returning to S.H.E.I.L.D invading his thoughts and actions. Yao had only a fitful five minutes of sleep against over seventy-two hours of prolonged wakefulness. At this rate he honestly didn't know how long his nerves would keep him awake. He was only waiting for his brain to say, 'enough is enough' and forcefully knock him out.

Yao walked off the jet, still stretching. He was surprised to see Fury and a small party waiting there. Though he supposed he shouldn't be. They had landed on the Helicarrier after all. Yao glanced around the landing platform. It was standard, nothing hade really changed. He turned his head and quickly told the staff of his jet to leave and bide them farewell when they did.

He watched them go for a moment before turning and walking towards Fury.

The one-eyed man stood in between four blank faced, black clad agents. Yao cringed at the days that he'd been one of them. He would never want to put that mask back on.

But then again, he'd come back.

Yao straitened his crumbled suit jacket and stopped in front of the little party.

"Agent Wang." Fury greeted without any hint of warmth or gratitude.

"Director." Yao nodded, hard eyed, showing the director the same courtesy the man had shown him. The agents tensed, but did nothing. They were probably warned. Yao thought bitterly, but he knew it was for the best. _Always for the best._

"I was hoping that you could explain something to me director -aru." Yao said, slightly irritated and allowing it to show. He was well aware he was probably the only on who hadn't been briefed. Fury raised an eyebrow, signaling for the businessman to continue. Yao closed his eyes and sighed. Deciding to be blunt. There was no energy for him to take a round about way anyway.

"Why am I here -aru?" They always forgot to tell him these things, assuming he already knew. Well usually he did, but that was no longer the case. He hadn't so much as thought of S.H.E.I.L.D in the past seventeen years_. 'That's a lie and you know it.'_ An all to familiar voice echoed in his mind.

Fine. He'd only thought about it... occasionally. It didn't mean anything.

Fury looked only mildly surprised, but Yao knew it was only a mask. A rather good –and familiar- one, but a mask all the same.

"The tesseract has been stolen." The director began to walk back towards the door. "By a demigod named Loki. The avengers initiative was brought back to combat it, however." Here Fury paused holding his hand just above the doorknob. "We have reason to believe that there is someone or something else behind the threat." He resumed motion. "The avengers are not enough."

Something else? Yao frowned, what? Then it hit and hither blood drained from his face. If Fury noticed he said nothing and started down the stairs. _Though by the sound of it Fury doesn't know –aru. _

Yao had lied when he'd said he hadn't thought about S.H.E.I.L.D at all in the past seventeen years. It had been a gigantic lie, for the first several years all his free time had been devoting to researching the monster that'd attacked them on their last mission. Though granted, Fury knew nothing about that either.

"Bonnefoy and Kirkland are here already." He informed Yao after several flights of dimly lit stairs. "They're in the third door on the left." Fury pointed down the hall with his line of vision.

How nice, we get time to catch up before work? Yao thought dryly as he slowly started down the hallway. The walls muffled the sound, but he could hear their loud voices already.

It seemed like they were arguing. Some things never change...

Yao took a deep breath as he reached the door. He glanced back down the hall, finding Fury and his small team to still be there, watching.

Yao frowned, and noticed his shaking hand. This was unlike him. Yao forced his hand to still by gripping the doorknob. Slowly and cautiously Yao opened the door. His eyes widened at what he saw. Arthur and Francis were arguing as per usual. And Yao found himself yelling at them like no time had passed.

"Shut up -aru!" They turned towards him. "Wouldn't your rather eat some delicious snacks instead of arguing -aru?" He always had been something of a businessman. They stared at him briefly, but the argument erupted barely seconds later, Yao somehow finding himself part of it and somehow enjoying as well.

_9:20: Helicarrier, conference room_

Arthur sighed, sitting down in one of the rolley chairs and leaning back. Francis, who was already sitting, shifted a little, falling silent. Yao left the snacks he'd made in the middle of the table, all but dropping them there. He sat as well, crossing his arms.

Ivan had come in a minute ago, joining in the argument briefly. It had ended though, when everyone realized how half hearted it had gotten. They all sat around the black conference table, refusing to talk.

Francis broke the silence. "How've you been, mis amis?" There was a pause, before Yao responded. If only to humor him.

"Fine -aru." The silence returned, it made the air thick and awkward, but they needed it in a way. Everyone needed to think. Arthur found himself fidgeting, and breaking the silence next. He asked the question on everyone's mind.

"Where do you suppose Alfred is?" There was no response. They all silently came to a conclusion. "He wouldn't have wanted to return." Arthur whispered.

"Of course not, he was the one who wanted to leave the most." Francis sighed, leaning forward and placing his head on his folded hands.

"Fury." Ivan stated, his accent thick.

"That blooming bastard!" He shouted when it clicked. Jumping up running to the door, Arthur's rage filled then room. Francis was half a step behind him, restraining him while Yao blocked the door. Ivan watched, coldly waiting for Arthur to calm himself.

"Oui, mon cher we're all angry, but calm down." Francis' attempt to placate him failed, having the opposite effect.

"Shut up you bloody frog!" Arthur yelled struggling to free himself. Francis didn't respond, he instead glanced at Yao over Arthur's shoulder and then quickly flipped the Brit over. Yao was already moving. He jumped and held down the furious Brit's flailing feet. The Frenchman held down his friend's arms and waited. They both waited. It had happened before.

After a while Arthur stopped struggling and relaxed, somewhat. "Let me go." Francis hesitated for a moment, before nodding to Yao. They released the now calmer, but almost sad Brit and returned to their previous seats. It had happened before.

Arthur didn't move for a moment. He just lay on the floor staring at the ceiling, brooding over who knows what. "I apologize." It was quiet, whispered, and barely audible. No one responded verbally, but their faces conveyed what they meant to say. It was all right; he hadn't needed to apologize in the first place.

The silence reigned for a while before Ivan, somewhat cheerfully asked,

"So, vhat have you been doing, Yao?" Yao decided to play along and get a conversation going. If only to fill the stifling silence.

"I've been running a company," He didn't bother to elaborate. "What about you?" Ivan giggled childishly and didn't respond. His purple eyes got an evil tint, sending shivers through the spines of everyone in the room. He didn't respond verbally. Conversation was shut down after that, and remained so until three unfamiliar agents opened the door.

_9:15: Helicarrier, hallway_

Fury walked down the narrow halls towards the command center. The Avengers where already there, and he'd just finished 'talking' with Loki. Everything was in order. He had yet to mention the Allies to the Avengers, or anyone else who wasn't already aware. Even the Black Widow didn't know.

Fury continued down the hall, taking a turn or two and allowing his feet to guide him back. Before he walked back into the command center, he buzzed Hill. "Send someone to go get the Allies." He ordered, preparing to tell the Avengers that they were not enough. They were nowhere near enough.

It wasn't just Loki behind the stealing of the tesseract. It was nowhere near that simple.

"Yes sir." Came Hill's prompt reply as he rounded the last corner. He nodded slightly, out of habit and didn't miss a beat. He said nothing as he did it and walked down the last hallway. He stepped into the command room and walked up to the conference table.

Stark was speaking with Dr. Banner and the others were speaking as well, to each other and to Stark and Banner. Fury sighed when he heard Starks next comment. Deciding to break in, despite only having been there for a few seconds.

"Dr. Banner is here to trace the cube, nothing more." He said, in his usual tone. The one eyed man faced the Avengers as he said it and approached the group, before any of them could open their mouths, Fury continued. "One another note, I have bad news. The Avengers are not enough."

"Excuse me? What?" Stark asked indignantly, anger and disbelief plain in his voice.

"The Avengers are not enough-" Stark cut him off, again

"What do you mean not enough? Why did you call us in if we didn't meet your standards, Mr. Ultimate spy?" The others looked confused and less then happy. Fury waited. No one had anything to add, so giving everyone in the room a look he continued.

"The threat goes beyond Loki and his army." It took a moment for that to sink in.

"What?" They all asked, confusion evident on their faces. Only Thor looked unsurprised, almost like he'd expected it. Fury noted it and decided he'd have to speak with the demigod sooner rather than later.

"We are unaware of just what is beyond him, but we know it is there and that it is very much, a threat." He paused for a moment. "So we called in specialists, people who have much much, more experience than you."

"Again with the we're not good enough thing" Stark muttered, but didn't stop Fury. The one-eyed man checked the clock in the corner discreetly. 9:30.

"We called in reinforcements." The doors opened and four civilians walked in with some agents. They didn't look like anything special.

"Avengers, meet the Allied Powers. S.H.E.I.L.D's former strongest team."

* * *

I just realized, this is the longest chapter yet. Hurray!

Please review I'd really appreciate it:3

~Son Luna


	4. I'm Sorry Iggy

Hi... I'm really really sorry... really sorry... I suck... I'm terrible at updating... I'll go start chapter 5 right now... I'm sorry *goes and grows mushrooms in the corner* I'm not going to make this A/N longer... ignore this if you want...

* * *

_9:20: Helicarrier Command Center_

Yao leaned against the wall observing the former CEO of Stark Enterprises. So far he was rather unimpressed, and almost disappointed. Stark had dark circles under his eyes and wore a crumpled t-shirt. He held himself in arrogantly regardless, and was too pig headed to interact with others in a civil manner. From what Yao had seen so far it seemed as though the genius Tony Stark was ridiculously over hyped.

The Chinese businessman decided to refrain judgment on that when he noticed how stiff Stark was. Despite his unprofessional air and relaxed appearance he was on guard and ready to strike on a moments notice. Yao frowned at the man's back and yawned. Despite how many layers Stark's personality might have; he was still annoyingly childish.

The billionaire was bickering with Arthur and Fury. It was every man for himself and rather senseless. Thor had recognized this and laughed, only to have an insult thrown his way. He'd thrown back an insult of his own, only to be verbally assaulted by Arthur and Stark. Yao was slightly surprised that Francis wasn't involved, though he saw why seconds later when a feral hiss caught his attention.

Agent Natasha Romanov was hunched in on herself and glaring in a disgusted and violated manner towards Francis. Yao sighed and rubbed his eye, he should've expected that form Francis. It didn't take long for that to branch off into an argument of it's own, though it wasn't nearly as obnoxiously loud as the other.

Dr. Banner had half heartedly tried to get them to stop. He realized rather quickly that it was a futile effort and stopped. He had no good reason to get into a fight, and he'd really like to avoid another incident. The Captain had been helping him. He, unlike Banner, was rather chivalrous and stubborn. It was uncommon these days and it was nice to see, but Yao didn't really care at the moment. The noise he was making was much to annoying.

The Captain had tried to placate both Natasha and the larger quarreling group by alternating between them, and he had failed quite miserably. His valiant efforts had lead to his own frustration and the bridging of two separate arguments, as well as a significant rise in the noise level.

_"DAMN FROG!"_

Yao hadn't really paid much attention to Ivan during this exchange, as he was silent throughout its entirety, surprisingly.

Yao slumped against the wall and grumbled. "Do they have to be so damn loud –aru?" The Chinese man yawned and tried to stifle his irritation. _I feel so old –aru._ He failed to stifle his irritation as it grew and chose to funnel it's self onto Fury. The anger it erupted into was senseless and rather primitive. In an act of thoughtless irritation he took a step towards Fury, closed his eyes, and put a hand in his pocket.

Click. Yao's presence demanded attention, with surprising speed for someone as tired as himself; Yao had pulled out a gun and aimed in flawlessly at the Director's head. For a moment, no one moved. Stark's eyes were wide, Banner was much the same, and the Captain was defensive. He was a good soldier. Thor and Natasha Romanov were instantly on guard like the Captain. The agents in the room took half a second more to react. _That half a second could be deadly_. Yao assessed, and glared at Fury, pouring his frustration into the look, who met his gaze with his usual look.

Yao locked himself in place; years and years of experience told him he was being stupid, though not as stupid as he could be. He'd done much, much stupider things. The thought of that made him wince. The Allies gave him confused looks, but they didn't last long. They settled into cold indifference once they realized what was happening. After all, it had happened before.

He relaxed abruptly after holding his position for a minute, and pocketed his handgun with a well-practiced flick of his wrist. He walked to the conference table and pulled out a chair. He sat himself down and leaned against his hand. The guns followed his every move.

"Lets act civilized -aru." He grumbled and crossed his arms. The businessman sighed and closed his eyes for a second. The agents lowered their weapons, slowly. Everyone waited.

"Mon ami is asleep." Francis announced to the silent command center, a thoughtful look in his eyes. _It's rather out of character for him…_

_9:15 AM: random S.H.E.I.L.D jet, flying towards New York_

Alfred groaned and cracked open one of his sky blue eyes. _Damn…_ Alfred hated sedatives, he really did. _They always give me weird amounts._ S.H.E.I.L.D never had figured out just how much was enough to just knock him out. It was always too little and it made him hazy, or too much and it knocked him out for a really long time. And that one time they gave him that weird enhanced one that made him hallucinate…

Alfred hazily looked around his hazy environment and tried to sit up. He immediately felt a searing pain in his back. He groaned and lay back down. He waited for a moment, before easing himself up and grouping for his glasses. It took several minutes for some agent to take pity on him and toss him the glasses. Alfred gave him a cheery grin and decided to ignore the gash on the agents face. _How much damage did I cause? Ah well…_

Alfred leaned forward once he could see and felt his body ache. He supposed it was partially his own fault, especially the ache in his head, but still.

_Owww… Damn it. _S.H.E.I.L.D really never had been good at giving him appropriate amounts of sedatives.

Alfred made a fist and flexed his fingers. He wiggled his toes and stretched out his arms, trying to regain feeling in them. The blonde let out a loud yawn, which garnered him some odd looks from the agents aboard, but no one said a thing. He cracked his neck and his fingers before springing to his feet.

The agents all tensed when he did that, as if expecting another assault, though Alfred didn't notice. He was far to busy regretting moving like that.

Nausea washed over him and his head spun. His face turned blue and he felt the blood drain form his face. He immediately sat back down, stiff as a board. _Well that was stupid…_ Alfred curled into the fetal position rocking slightly and hoping that the nausea would pass, he found himself smiling again when it did. The actor uncurled himself and stretched again. He glanced around the room and assessed what he was up against, deciding that he was out of practice enough that he shouldn't try and take over, he smiled at his 'captors.'

_I might as well be nice… for now, even if they are dragging me into Hell. _The blonde's stomach chose that moment to let out a ferocious growl and garner the full attention of everyone on the little jet. Crocodile tears sprang into the corners of his eyes as he mournfully remembered his would be hamburger breakfast. It felt so very far away.

He turned to the nearest agent in the little jet and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Hey dude," The agent looked surprised, and though he tried to hide it, a little scared. "Do ya guys have anything to eat?" The agents all slowly turned to face him with looks of disbelief and confusion written on their faces. _Is this really the right guy?_

_9:25 AM: Helicarrier, conference room._

Yao had woken up with an utterly violated and confused look marring his face. It'd quickly cleared however, once he'd fully woken up from his brief nap. That had been several minutes ago, Fury had decided it was best if he spoke to the teams in one of the conference rooms, rather than in the command center. They'd relocated quickly and had fallen silent waiting for Fury to explain.

Except for Tony, who wasn't exactly willing to wait. "Why're they here anyway?"

Fury glared at him with his one eye. "The Allied powers were summoned because we are facing a threat bigger than Loki and the tesseract." The reaction was instantaneous.

"What?" Exclamations of disbelief, and for some anger. "So we're not enough, how weak do you think we are?" Fury waited and locked eyes with the only silent person in the room. Ivan.

"Care to explain, Braginski?" Everyone went silent, and swiveled their heads towards Ivan.

"Nyet." His eyes glazed over with a distant, melancholy look. The Director didn't appear happy with the response, but began to speak no the less.

"The threat we are facing is powerful enough to manipulate Loki and whatever army he may have." Thor looked like he was going to day something. "Whatever it is, it is extremely powerful, much stronger than-"

"So you don't know what it is?" Tony looked rather indignant.

"Of course he doesn't." The Avengers and Allies turned to face the door, and shock flickered in the Allies, and Tony's, eyes. A battered, slightly bloody form stood in the doorway, holding himself with confidence and immense anger. He fixed his blue eyes on Fury. "You bastard."

"Al." Arthur whispered, mostly to himself.

"Agent Jones." Alfred fixed Fury with a cold angry glare.

"Director Fury." The famous actor mocked. To Tony, no of this made any sense. He'd met Alfred F. Jones at some party years ago, and he'd seemed like the typical actor. Not nearly as much as he was made out to be. _The world is a small place._

"You haven't changed."

"Neither have you, you're still an uptight asshole who thinks he can play with people's lives and have them go play soldier on a whim. We're not _heroes _any more Fury, and I don't feel like we ever were. We were done, I thought I'd made that clear." Alfred was seething. He wanted nothing to do with this goddamned hero business.

Fury gave the former agent an emotionless stare and, keeping his eyes trained on him. "_We_ don't know quite what it is, but we have reason to believe that it is a threat. A bigger threat than Loki, or anything else this world has to offer. And we have very good reason to believe, Agent Jones, that it is directly linked to you, and your team." Unmasked fear shown in the Allies eyes at Fury's words.

"Then you want no part in it." Francis informed, sounding weary and almost bitter.

"So you know what the threat is?" The Captain asked, somewhat confused.

"How the hell would you know when S.H.E.I.L.D doesn't have a clue? Sure they're useless assholes most of the time, but they're information is reliable." Tony was bewildered. When Fury had introduced the Allies the billionaire had questions, sure. Now Alfred F. Jones had been thrown into the picture, leaving him confused and admittedly curious.

None of the Allies bothered to answer, or give a sign that they'd heard them. Silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating,

"It is not your problem, da?" Ivan smiled, emitting his horrifying aura. _Matthew didn't like it when I did this either…_

"You made it our problem years ago." Fury retorted.

"Stop fooling yourself, director. If you hadn't dragged us into this you know that _they _wouldn't have cared the least bit about causing the World any harm. Yao nodded distantly in agreement, seeming lost in thought.

"You made it our problem director." Alfred spat. Ignoring Arthur. "You sent us on that mission, you did it all. Even though you knew, you had to know! It was a god damned suicide mission that you sent us on Director. It's your own damn fault for having inadequate information."

Fury remained silent, meeting Alfred's glare with his own, somewhat detached one. Arthur was staring at Alfred, like he was possessed. In a way, it was like he was. Possessed by a vengeful spirit. The Avengers felt distinctly uncomfortable. They had an awful feeling that they shouldn't be there. They were witnessing something they shouldn't, and none of them were comfortable with it.

No one said a thing for a while after that. Finally, Fury dismissed them. The Avengers were the first to leave; Tony and Banner went down to the labs while the others went about whatever duties they had. Yao left, and was followed by Ivan, who turned down the hallway and walked off alone. Francis looked like he was waiting for something, but he quickly left as well. Figuring he'd go find someone to talk to.

Alfred and Arthur were left alone. Alfred had his back to Arthur, as he had since he'd come in.

"Al?" Arthur asked tentatively.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Alfred whispered, as he wrapped his arms around himself, trembling. He didn't want to be here anymore. _I don't wanna see Iggy._

* * *

Ok so... I'm really sorry, so to anyone who still cares about this story, please review? I feel bad just for asking that...

**Luna in Bloodland: Thank you:) I hope this chapter is as good as the others!**

**TheLazyOtakuWithNoTime: Thanks Yeah… people keep telling me that. Sorry…**

**MyraBrown: Thank you!:3 Should I know Steve? Well about that…. You'll see!**

**Guest 1: Your comment made my day. I couldn't stop smiling, thank you!:) Here's the next chapter I hope you like it!**

**Aripadenoapte: Don't die I hope you like this chapter!**

**Guest 2: You caught on! You're the first person who's mentioned it! There will be RusCan, to answer your question…. hahahahahahaha(sorry you just made me really excited) I did it on purpose, you'll see why later… Though not till chapter 10 at least…**

**Officially a Psychopath: Don't cry! Here's the next chapter!**

**mofalle: Here you go**

**Skysword: Hahaha, thank you! I hope you like this chapter**

**Pasta. Chicka: Thank you! I love your name by the way:D**

**Reader: yeah I'm horrible to Alfred aren't I... hope you like this chapter!**

**nicolft: Of course I'm continuing! I'm bad at updating, but I won't give this story up! I have a plan!**

**Whisperings: Yeah I know it's just a sterotype… I didn't know about the question thing… interesting. Yep! You're right, S.H.E.I.L.D doesn't know**

**27aquarrow72: Here's the chapter, hope you like it! Yeah I'm a fan of Mattie too, I feel horrible for killing him…**

**kikigirl4321: Thank you I hope you like the chapter!**

**Guest 3: OK! HERE!**

**Guest 4: Thank you I hope you like this chapter.**

**Switzerland3: Well, they've meet. I hope I depicted it well. Sorry my update wasn't soon at all….**

**KillerOfPotatos: Thank you!:) are you by any chance friends with Romano?;p I'm sorry I made you wait.**

**Guest 5: I'm very sorry I made you wait… It makes me feel terrible. Sorry.**

**foxfire222: Thank you! I'm sorry I didn't update soon, but I don't plan on being that bad about updating in the future! I'm working on it! Thank you for reviewing**

**Anonymous:Wow. *Blinks* Thank you so much. You just made my day, I'm glad you're excited! I hope it wasn't disappointing!:)**

**Alfred F. Jones: Ok, ok… I updated… jeez….**

**ARandomReviewer: Thank you so much! I hope you continue to like this story as I continue**

**Nicolft: thank you for reviewing:)**


End file.
